


Galactic Constants

by Medie



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-09
Updated: 2010-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-07 03:32:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Are you sure," he asked, just a touch plaintive, "that you're not a robot?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Galactic Constants

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be for [](http://community.livejournal.com/bridge2sickbay/profile)[**bridge2sickbay**](http://community.livejournal.com/bridge2sickbay/), but, as always, I fail utterly at _drabbling_. (The prompt, btw, was Pike/Author's Choice - Due South. Like I could resist _that_!

He missed her.

Stepping onto the transporter pad, Chris watched Starfleet Command dissolve and Chicago form around him. The change in scenery didn't help his mood much. Too much paperwork, not enough organization, and the latest reports from the Enterprise lost somewhere in the mix.

God, he missed Jennifer. It was unfair, of course, to his current yeoman, but he still couldn't help thinking it. If Jen were the one running his staff, he'd be fighting the rest of the Admiralty for her.

Colt had always been scarily efficient, making him the envy of more than one captain. The entire time they'd served together on the Yorktown, she'd been his saving grace more often than not. He never truly understood how she managed to marshal all of those reports, rosters, and dozens of unrelated minutiae into a coherent, and workable, system for him.

Two weeks into his life as an admiral, Chris missed said system and it's creator desperately. It wasn't that his current assistant, Lieutenant Zipata, wasn't capable, he was mostly, but he wasn't Colt. Try as the kid might to keep it together, Chris couldn't find a damn thing and hell if he wasn't in the bad mood from hell by the time he reached the restaurant and sat down with Phil Boyce.

He grumbled as much at lunch, and Boyce tucked his chin, giving Chris _that_ look. "You aren't going to fire this one too, are you?"

"No," Chris said, but too quickly. Before Phil could smirk, he sighed. "Nogura'll have my ass if I try."

"Mmhmm," Phil agreed. "So, he'll be requesting transfer inside of a week?"

"Or two, a month at the outset," Chris said. He should have felt guilty about that (god knew, he was probably developing a _reputation_ with the admin staff) but instead he grinned. "I just -- " he shrugged. "Jen spoiled me."

Phil didn't press a hand to his chest and fall back, but Chris got the impression of it nonetheless in the slight curl of his lip and the twinkle in his eye. "My, my, he finally admits it."

"I _always_ admitted it," Chris protested. He'd made sure that, for her efficiency, Jennifer had always been exceptionally well compensated. Usually, the prestige of having the job on one's service record was glory enough to keep people in the job, but with her he'd taken no chances. Not with his fellow captains attempting to lure her right out from under him. A yeoman like Colt was worth her weight in gold and every captain in the fleet knew it. "Made damn sure to."

"Oh really?" Phil said. "Tell me, Chris, does wondering if she was a robot count as one of those admissions? I don't think that Jennifer would have said so."

She hadn't. Chris smiled with a little guilt. She'd heard it and boy he'd suffered for it. She hadn't punished him. She was _Colt._ She'd learned better ways of dealing with errant captains.

"Made you pay for that one, didn't she?" Phil asked. He sipped his ice tea, chomping on the ice cubes in it, and smirked.

"In spades." At the time, he'd already known his sweet-faced yeoman was hiding a pretty interesting mean streak. He'd come to rely on it. All captains did. She was his gatekeeper and she was good at it.

Except, of course, when she'd turned that streak right around and focused it on _him_. He'd spent a good month waiting for retaliation and suspecting, from the glint in her eye, she'd enjoyed every second of his misery.

Truth be told, he'd enjoyed watching her enjoy it.

"No one is that polite and that efficient, Phil," Chris said, betraying none of his thoughts. At least, he hoped not.One of the few sore spots the Yorktown's missions had left him. Ordinarily, the subject of Jennifer Colt was as off-limits as Talos IV currently was.

And for the very same reason. If not for that goddamn clusterfuck of a mission -- he shut down the thought before it could betray him. Jen was a closed door. Closed and locked. Whatever potential friendship (or more) he'd lost because of those damn meddling aliens, she'd lost more.

It was Jen that had been painted with the scarlet letter by the crew. Her teasing comment on the bridge parlaying itself through the ship's gossips into a dramatic tale worthy of old Earth soap operas. She'd come between him and Number One. Been 'the other woman' and she'd borne it all with barely an annoyed gaze or two.

He'd stayed out of it, both because Colt would have been mortified at his interference and because it would've just made things worse, but at a price.

He'd felt the distance between them after that. She'd never been any less efficient. Her performance had not suffered (on the contrary, it had soared) and, eventually, the stories had settled into non-existence.

Not that it mattered. The damage was done. When Enterprise came calling and he took temporary posting with the Academy, she hadn't followed. She'd taken a posting on a deep space mission and shipped out shortly thereafter.

He couldn't blame her.

"No one?" Phil was saying as he tuned back in. "Not at all?"

"Not even the _Vulcans_," Chris insisted emphatically. "Don't know how she did it."

"Vulcans aren't Canadian, Admiral," a voice said quietly from behind him. He jumped. With an entrance like that, he thought he had a right to. "I am."

Chris scowled at Phil. The old bastard just smiled serenely into his soup. "We'll deal with this later, Doctor," he warned, sotto voice, before getting up. "Ye--_Lieutenant Commander_ Colt," he said, catching sight of the rank just in time. "Congratulations are in order, I imagine?"

Colt nodded and gestured at him. "I believe the same of you as well, sir," she said, then leaned to one side. "Doctor Boyce."

"Jennifer," he replied. "Lovely to see you as always." At least he didn't try lying. Chris felt like hanging him. He'd been talking to Jen this whole time and -- Oh, hanging was too good for him. He wondered if it would be difficult to convince Kirk to draw, quarter, and then space the old coot. The kid did owe him a favor or fifty.

Not that Phil was going to give him the chance. He was already on his feet, saying, "If you'll both excuse me, I need to make a call." as he made tracks for the exit.

"As subtle as ever, I see," Colt said. She laced her fingers together behind her back. Not quite parade rest, but not far from it. She was nervous. It didn't suit her.

She wasn't the only one. Didn't suit him either, but he had more practice hiding it. "The day that man stops scheming, he stops breathing," Chris said. He forced a smile to cover his nerves. "So, Commander, what precisely brings you to town?"

"Well, I first came to Chicago - " Colt shook her head. "Nevermind. It's a long story that starts with me on leave and visiting a friend on Earth and, well, ends with Boyce calling me."

"Only too happy to regale you with all my troubles, I'll bet."

She smiled. Her hair was longer, curlier, a darker shade of red, and sneaking out of her upsweep in tiny rebellious shapes that softened her already friendly features. "Oh, he mentioned a few."

"Naturally," he said, sighing. "Feel like something to eat?"

He started to pull out her chair and, for a moment, she hesitated before sliding into it. Taking the tiny victory, he sat across from her (no need to push his luck) and watched as she bit her lip, only to release it and smile at the water a half-second later.

If she seemed bothered by the silence, she didn't let on and so he watched her, remembering the fresh faced girl, who'd asked - perfectly straight-faced, _"Who would have been Eve?" _ and set the bridge crew abuzz with speculation.

He wondered, if she'd known where that would get her, would she have said it?

"You know, it took me a week to realize you were kidding."

Water in hand, she looked at him with alarm that was quickly masked. "Sir?"

He waved a hand. "Chris, please." Seemed like the whole damn planet was calling him sir. He didn't need that now. Especially not from her. "I hear Admiral or sir one more time - "

Her wariness softened into amusement. "Must be tough being a galactic hero." She was teasing, again, but there was an empathy there too. He was grateful for it. Hard to be a hero with the death of a whole world on your conscience. Harder still when people forgot about it. "A galactic hero with an inept staff."

"Oh, they're not all inept. Neither is he, not really, he's just - " Chris sat down and smiled. "He's not you."

She blushed. It looked good on her.

"No one is," he added.

"Careful, Admiral," she said, amusement warming her words, "Someone might think you were flirting with me."

Chris smiled. "No, but I am working up to it. Any problems with that, Commander?"

He didn't hold his breath waiting for her answer, too many years and too much history for that, but if his heart beat just a little faster, Chris pretended not to notice.

"That, sir, remains to be seen," Jennifer said and turned to give her order.

Hesitance crept into Chris. He'd misread her. Which wasn't a surprise. After Talos, it had gotten harder and harder, and now, with a few years, ranks, and light years having separated them, he realized it might be impossible.

Then her eyes slid back to his, that oh-so-familiar glint in them, and he groaned.

"I deserved that," he said, laughing.

"No," she said, smiling now, "but I enjoyed it." Resting her chin on her palm, she waved a hand at him. "So, about this staff of yours?"

He looked at her, askance. "You want to talk about that _now_?"

She smiled wider. "Is it, or is it not, going to drive you crazy until you do deal with it?"

Chris sighed. Some day. Some day he was going to meet someone and actually be a mystery to them for more than five minutes.

Some day.

"Was I always this predictable?" he asked, just a little grouchy.

His ill-temper didn't last long in the face of Colt's smile. "Only on days ending in y."

"This is about that robot crack, isn't it?" he asked.

She shrugged, still smiling. "Possibly. I have a list. Cross-referenced and noted."

Of course she did.

"Are you sure," he asked, just a touch plaintive, "that you're not a robot?"

Jennifer's smile became a wicked grin. He'd never seen it before. He _liked_ it. "No, Chris, just Canadian."

Uh huh, because that was a galactic constant. All Canadians were polite, scarily efficient, and sneaky as hell.

"Just," he agreed. "Yeah, _right_."


End file.
